Demigods: The Reality
by Andre Gundasson
Summary: Rick Riordan displayed the world of demigods in a more PG/PG-13 way. This story follows Beran Weldman through his journey in the mythological world that we live in, but he isn't holding back on the juicy details. I'm still working on this and your comments are appreciated and encouraged.


Nope. That's it. I'm done. I've seen too much weird shit to just ignore it anymore. Everything has to be just freaking crazy, doesn't it? Of course the gods have to get in everyone's business and screw with your life like, "Normal? Pssshhh, you don't need that. Ha ha lol!"

Oh yeah, there are gods. Forgot to mention that. Whoops. Sorry, not sorry.

I guess I'll start at the beginning, or at least earlier, so you guys can get up to speed.

Okay, if you didn't know, there are gods. Greek and Roman, apparently. They exist and are still present in the modern world. Oh wait, it gets better. See, most of them come to Earth and get it on with the puny mortals, thus, creating demigods. "Gasp! Wow! You really need to lay off the drugs buddy!" Well, that's where you'd be wrong. I don't! I need more! No, actually, not really, but you're still wrong. They exist. I would say that I can prove it, but a) why would you care and b) the only way that I can do so is by telling you my story. So if you do care, then stick around and I'll tell you.

...

You're still there? Good. Okay, prepare to get mind fucked.

My name is Beranald Gornostaev-Weldman, but if you call me that, I'll remove your bodily organs and cook them in front of you. I won't eat them, because that's nasty, but I will cook them. Just call me Beran.

Do you remember how I said that the gods come to Earth and have children? Well, I'm one of them. No, this isn't an "I'm Better than You!" contest, it's truth. Mi padre, Hephaestus, is the god of metalworking and smithing. He's great at making weapons, playing with fire, and making machines of death that sometimes fall to the mortal world and cause trouble. I, too, have been good at building things. I guess you can figure out where I got it from.

Anyway, Hephaestus is my dad. The other gods, like Ares, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, and company also have half-mortal children: demigods. So we're like those heroes from mythology, Perseus, Jason, Achilles, etc. But just, you know, usually not as cool. It's not like we're born with unyielding bravery and super strength. We're usually just normal kids who get into trouble with monsters and either killed or saved.

You know, I'll start with that. Yeah. Demigod children are often either killed by monsters or saved.

"You're stupid. The bus goes down Merringer then takes a left at Farlen. It coasts down Farlen for fifteen or so minutes then takes a left onto Cork. My god, you're stupid."

I don't know how many times I told Harold this. Street bums like him had a hard time with directions, but I swear that this would be the 373rd time that I've told him.

"I thought it went left at Farlen then right at Banks?" He said will stroking his chin stubble.

I shook my head. "No. Merringer to Farlen. Farlen to Cork. Keep up, Harry."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Lay off, man. I'm not feeling great today."

I scoffed, "Says the meth head."

Harold walked off, muttering to himself, and I continued down the alley I started walking down.

I looked at the rainbow brick walls and the dumpsters that lined them. This alley was like many in the city of Denver, but I liked it cause it seemed the least alley-like. It reminded me that streets are wider than 7 feet. That life wasn't just the straight and narrow. That it also had twists and turns. Corners and ditches. I ducked under a loosened fence board and looked for my cache. I scanned the brick walls, looking for a specific brick. I grinned as I found the one with the 3-pointed star scratched onto it and edged it out of the wall. I grabbed the small bag inside the niche and opened it, revealing about $486. I snatched a twenty out and slid the money pack back into its cove in the stone wall.

My footsteps echoed off the walls of the alleyway as I walked back to civilization. My shoes scratched against the rough sidewalk, causing miniature pebbles to pop across the ground. I turned out onto the street. The money in my pocket felt light, weightless, almost. I looked behind me, seeing a couple leaning against a wall smoking, and a businessman walking fast and talking into a phone. I felt for the twenty again and sighed when I felt it, still in my pocket. I walked slightly faster.

I may have mentioned that I'm slightly paranoid. No? Okay, well, I'm slightly paranoid. See, demigods aren't born with unyielding bravery and super strength, but we are born with disorders like ADHD, which I have, or dyslexia. My ADHD isn't super great, but it does help sometimes. Though, most of the time, it makes me seem like a crackhead and super paranoid. Today, I assumed the latter.

I arrived at my destination: blessed 7-Eleven. I left the cool air waft over me and calm my nerves. I may have earned a confused stare from the cashier, but I didn't care. It felt good. After basking in the nicotine scented air, I walked to the back of the store to the refrigerated section. I stopped in front of a glass door displaying my quarry: Monster. I opened the door and took the energy drink, feeling the cold rush into my hand. Seeing a breakfast burrito, I set down the monster at the counter and grabbed it too. I rung up the $2.78 drink and the $3.26 burrito and left.

I stuffed my breakfast into my back pocket and popped the top of the monster. I closed my eyes, listening to the satisfying hiss of carbon dioxide leaving the metal can. When the sound stopped, I lifted the drink to my lips and savored the taste as it flowed down my throat.

If you haven't noticed, I really like monster. Like… a lot…

Anyway, I drank my monster and popped in earbuds connected to the iPod Nano resting in my pocket next to the $13.96. I pulled it out and tapped the screen until it showed my "Favorites" playlist. I hit shuffle and slid it back into my pocket. I smiled as "The Wanderer" came out of the mini speakers in the earbuds. I let the iPod drop back into my pocket and I strutted down the street, feeling better than I usually did.

Now, you may be wondering, "Where are the monsters you were talking about, Beran? It can't seriously be the drink, right?" No, you're right. It isn't the drink. Stay with me, we are about to meet one.

It was at this time that the phone in my left pocket buzzed. I pulled it out and flipped up the small top on the small phone and read the small text, "Meet coors. West." I flipped the top of the phone back down and jogged toward the Coors Field. I made good time, twenty-one minutes, and looked for something familiar. Then, I spotted it. A man in a blue T-shirt and jeans. His infamous grey ball cap with the bill partially torn. He noticed me, nodded, and strode off down a nearby alley. I sighed and followed him.

Reaching the alley, I saw the rest of them there. The gang. Beth, Archie, Cam, and The Boss. Beth, blonde and wearing a jean jacket and spike boots, and Cam, also blonde and wearing a red sweater and sweatpants, were listening to something, sharing a pair of earbuds. Archie, the guy in the ball cap, was in the van parked in the alley, leaning over a blueprint or map of sorts. The Boss, as I knew him, was on the phone. We never met The Boss in person. He was discreet. So every conversation the gang had with him was on the phone. I waved at Beth and Cam while walking over to the van. Archie nodded to the phone and I leaned closer to it.

"Here, boss." I said.

"Ah, there you are. We got a catch, but we gotta reel it in fast. You in, MT?"

I nodded, then said, "Yeah," remembering he was on the phone.

"Okay, We got a convoy heading through town. Eight hundred grand. Five trucks, heavy. Archie has their route on the map. We're hitting 'em at Corvin Plaza. You're job is tech, like usual. You're good today, yes?"

I looked toward the van. "You got my gear in the van?"

"Yes," The Boss said, "We got your things. Can you use them?"

I chuckled. "When can't I?"

The Boss grunted affirmatively over the phone. "Comic will fill you in on what to do. Pink and Jockey know their parts. It's $160,000 for you if we do this right. Don't screw up."

He hung up. I knew what to do, but he probably was watching everything we did from cameras.

I didn't mention this earlier, but I kinda rob banks. Well, technically, Beranald Weldman is not a criminal in federal databases. However, I am a criminal. The gang and I pull off smaller robberies, so $800,000 is pretty big for us. Beth, or Pink, is the fighter of the group. Cameron, Jockey, is the getaway driver. Archie, Comic, is kinda all around. The Boss is the boss. Since my name is Beran, I go by MT. Beran sounds like barren, so The Boss calls me MT, empty. Despite my nickname, I'd argue that I'm not empty, at least not in mind. I've always been good with making things, specifically machines. In the group, my job is generally diversion, safe cracking, hacking, and the like. Today, I assumed that I'd be mostly diversion. It sounded like a good day.

We waited at the Blockbuster in the plaza. It didn't look too good. The armored truck was 15 minutes late, which was a bad thing. The trucks were always on time. This left two situations in my mind: either a) The Boss got bad info or b) some other crew got the truck first. The chances of a route change were relatively little.

Beth paced around the Rom-Com section while Cam looked for a Tom Cruise movie he hadn't seen. Archie was behind the store, checking city cameras. We all were on edge. $800,000 is a lot of money, and very unlikely to cross our path again.

"Found 'em." Archie said over the radio. None of us spoke, because it's weird enough for the three of us to be in Blockbuster, but even weirder to randomly start talking to no one. "They're blocks back. Someone did get to them. They're huge, but they can't seem to open the truck." Beth scowled and walked out, not taking the cheesy movie she was looking at with her. Cam took a Keanu Reeves movie and went to the counter. I myself didn't find anything of interest, so I just left and went around back. Cam followed a few moments later.

Archie sat at the wheel of the van, staring at a laptop. One look, and I knew something was wrong. The guys he was talking about weren't huge, they were enormous. 7 feet high at least and about 300 lbs of hulking muscle. The guards assigned to the truck were crumpled, one dismembered, around the vehicle.

"Go get 'em." The Boss said over the phone which was on the dashboard. Cam paled. "Are you serious? How are we supposed to take them on?" Archie turned around, looking slightly annoyed. "Do they have guns?" They didn't. Cam shrunk a little. Beth cracked her knuckles. "Let's go then, yeah?" She clambered into the shotgun seat and, ironically, pulled out a shotgun. Cam sighed and climbed in back with me. Archie grunted and we sped off.

It took 3 minutes to get there with the traffic. Three minutes to doom.

When we arrived, we all rushed out, now wearing our masks. Beth had a sort of rabbit mask with an ear missing. Cam had a bulldog with accentuated teeth. I had a fox with a newsboy cap. Archie decided to wear a normal hockey mask. We were all armed. Beth with a 12 gauge, Cam with a M16, Archie a simple AK-12, and myself with a glock. I wouldn't be fighting. My job was to bust the doors. Easy enough.

Beth immediately fired at the closest, dropping him easily with a head shot. Cam and Archie both gunned down the next, while Beth finished the last. Done. It was ours now.

"MT, get to work." I nodded and rushed to the back of the van. I kneeled and reached into my bag, a satchel hanging at my side. I rummaged for a few moments, searching for the item I needed. Two seconds later, I grabbed it, what looked like a hubcap, and stuck it to the doors. After flipping a switch on the side, I moved to the side of the van and pulled out a remote with 3 buttons. I pressed the red one and the hubcap exploded, melting a hole in the doors and destroying the locking mechanisms. Archie ran to the back and used a crowbar to open the doors without getting burned, revealing the case in the van. Cam ran up beside him.

That's when everything went wrong.

"Woo! Heck yeah! Money money, here we-"

His sentence ended as he was impaled by a telephone pole. Beth, who was reloading back at the van, cursed in the loud Irish way she did as one of the brutes, who was supposed to be dead, threw a tire at her. The third was rising, dust on his face. Or in his face. I couldn't tell.

Yeah, when a human is shot in the head with a shotgun, chances of survival are exceedingly low. So how these guys were still alive was beyond us.

Cam sputtered, blood dripping from his mouth, and went still.

Let me be clear, this was not the first person I had seen die, but this time, I was rattled.

The giant who had the pole turned to face Archie and I. Comic didn't hesitate in emptying his clip on the attacker. I heard Beth fire off two shots, then a loud slam followed. The third was still getting up, probably dazed from getting filled with lead, but somehow still not dead.

"Get the damn case, MT!" I turned toward Archie, as he impossibly grappled the giant. It may have been me not seeing well in the moment, but it looked like the thing only had one eye. I didn't stick around to check. I jumped in the van, snatched the case off the floor, and got out in time to see Beth fly across the street. She went through a store window, knocking over several clothing racks. The second and third hulking masses stumbled toward the store to inspect their work.

I really didn't want to see Beth after that. I didn't want to see another one of my crew die. Fortunately, I didn't. As the ogres wandered into the store, I picked up a small clicking sound, after which, an explosion engulfed them.

I heard a grunt to my right as Archie was thrown to the ground. Unlike Beth and Cam, Archie seemed to actually be doing moderately well. He had a hell of a bruise on his cheek where his mask broke, but otherwise, he was holding his own… almost.

The goliath turned to face me, as I was the last standing. He lumbered in my direction as I fumbled to get my gun out. I had never faced this kind of… thing, before. It definitely only had one eye. It's maw opened to reveal a plethora of mismatched teeth.

Okay, now I had said "demigods" previously. This is where you meet another.

She came in on a horse. Now, in Colorado, riding a horse on the road isn't uncommon. However, wearing a full suit of armor and holding a wicked long sword while doing so, that was.

 ** _Hey guys! So sorry that I haven't been on for a while. I have been super busy. Just got a job and such, but I plan to work on chapters for this story at least every week. I can't say for certain when the next one will come out, but I know that another will come. Thanks so much for reading! Any comment and any questions are always appreciated._**


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